


Ten

by Azkaabanter



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry's shy in the beginning, Discovering secret identities, In Central for buisness, Injury, M/M, Near Death, Oliver and Barry don't know each other, Oliver can see how dangerous a person is by looking them in the eye, Oliver is the Mayor of Starling, Smut, but he's way too strong, it's a number from 1 to 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azkaabanter/pseuds/Azkaabanter
Summary: Oliver's in Central City on Mayoral business, and to take a break from being the Green Arrow in Starling City for one month. Just one.His temporary office is in the crime lab of the CCPD, because what place in Central could be safer than the police station? And what room could be better than one he gets to share with the shy, nerdy, clumsy CSI?But Barry Allen isn't at all what he seems.Oliver can see if you're dangerous, it's a gift; a power.A toddler... a one.A cop... a five.A hitman... a seven.Barry Allen... a ten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just wondering if anyone is interested in being the beta for the final chapter of this fic? I want it to be the absolute best it can be, but if you want to beta, be aware that the final chapter will have smut in it, so don't get triggered and say I didn't warn you lmao.
> 
> Anywhooooo...

"Dig, remember that I'll be back as fast as I can if anything happens. Don't hesitate to call me-"

"Oliver, we'll be fine man. If anything happens I'll call you, alright. Enjoy your vacation." Oliver smirked, putting his laptop bag on his borrowed desk in the crime lab of the Central City Police Department, his work station for the next month.

"I don't think this counts as a vacation."

"Well, it's a vacation from being the Arrow at least." Dig's deep voice holds a sense of care that doesn't show up for just anybody.

"Yeah, I guess you're right- just..." Oliver lets out a breath. "just take care of Thea for me?"

"Oh, you know I will. See you soon, Arrow."

"See you soon." Oliver cuts of the call and sits in the plush leather chair next to him, putting his feet up on his old wooden desk. Looking around, he notices that the guy who works here is pretty messy... but for some reason, only with papers. There are literally papers scattered all over the ground, everywhere. All the test tubes are in their racks, beakers clean and shelved...

 it looks like a hurricane blew through, _only_ affecting the papers.

" _Seriously Allen! 20 minutes late? Honestly, do you even try anymore._ " The voice that Oliver recognizes as Captain Singh's is muffled only slightly by the door to the lab, easily cutting through the noise of the rest of the station downstairs. Another voice can be heard as well, this one less loud but still masculine just the same, sounding extremely annoyed.

" _Sorry sir, I had to stop for food-_ "

" _Yeah, I can see that. Just... go process the evidence from the crime scene yesterday, and be prepared to go out on a scene today... I feel like something's gonna happen._ " Singh's footsteps recede and the door slams open, a tall, pale brunette stumbling into the lap with his hands full, muttering about how he had just gotten up a minute ago and how was he supposed to get food, _AND_ get here in that time? He shuts the door with his foot, slams his bag on the table, closes his eyes, and lets out a deep sigh.

 The Arrow looks down at his folded hands and smirks, before clearing his throat. Barry turns around so fast Oliver swears he sees the brunette's head blur... he must be more tired than he'd thought. The other man's eyes widen and drop to the ground in nervousness at the sight of the intimidating blonde, knowing stories of what happened to him on the island. Oliver crosses his arms over his chest with a smirk.

"Oh- sorry I thought you were coming tomorrow Mr. Queen." The man says quietly, and if Oliver isn't mistaken, a light blush is appearing on his cheeks. He stands up and walks over to Oliver's desk, eyes on the floor in his nervousness. The older man has begun to wonder what this scrawny guy's number will be.... not his phone number, I mean that would be ridiculous... he doesn't even know this guy's _NAME_ \- well he can assume it's probably Allen because of that man yelling it, but still. A toddler's usually a 1, and the highest number he's ever seen was on Slade, a trained hitman, and all he had was a 7. It's a pretty unusual ability to have, being able to see the danger that a person poses on a ten-point scale. One that nobody knows about, now that his father is dead.

 Oliver trains his eyes on the brunette who is still standing stiffly right in front of his desk, eyes still downcast. All he has to do is meet the nervous CSI's eyes and he'll know. Oliver smirks a bit at the other man's anxiety and reaches out a hand.

"Please, just call me Oliver. We'll be sharing an office for a while so I feel like we should skip the formalities." Finally the other man looks up with a shy smile and takes the Arrow's hand ( _of course not knowing that side of Oliver_ ), and shaking it firmly.

"Barry Allen. It's nice to meet you." And he finally brings his eyes to meet Oliver's.

 Usually, Oliver brings his eyes to whatever person he'd just met's number right away, but he instead finds himself gazing into Barry's brilliantly green eyes for an admittedly uncomfortable amount of time, lost in the emerald. He clears his throat and lets go of the brunette's hand, and finally brings his blue crystals up to the number now floating over the CSI's head.

' _Probably a four- he works for the police but as a CSI. He seems too soft to be a five but-_ ' Oliver's thoughts are immediately stopped at seeing a small ' _10_ ' floating above Barry's head.

"10?..." Oliver whispers aloud.

"Pardon?" Barry asks. Oliver stays silent for a moment more, just staring over his office mate's head in awe because how could this lanky, shy guy be a _10_?

"Uh... nothing, don't worry about it. Nice to meet you too, Barry." Oliver gives him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before bringing his bright blue eyes to the laptop in front of him, skimming over pages and pages of white noise that comes with being a mayor.

"Right..." Barry says, pursing his lips and turning on his heel to return to his desk, tripping a little on his way to sit down. Oliver looks up for just a second to see the young CSI digging into a HUGE bag of Big Belly Burger.

"Hungry?" He says with a grin, Barry turning around with a shy smile.

"I didn't have dinner last night." He mutters, taking a huge bite and turning back to face his desk and picking up a pen to presumably write reports. Which is exactly what Oliver is supposed to be doing as well. He keeps his eyes on the 10 hovering over Barry's head for a few second longer, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and returning to his work, trying to push thoughts of the admittedly pretty hot CSI from his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver thinks about that mysterious number above Barry's head, before getting distracted by a threat- and a speedster.

  
 When Oliver returns to his hotel that night, all he can think about is Barry Allen, and that dumb little _10_ floating above his head.

 One thing the Arrow prides himself on is his ability to read people, and someone like Barry should be an open book, yet he's just... not even close to that.

 Rain pounds on the single window of his hotel room, flashes of lightning illuminating the walls. Oliver lies down on the bed and crosses his ankles, taking the remote off of the nightstand and turning on the small flatscreen adorning the wall.

 " _And in other news, crime has dropped 70% in Central City due to our very own Scarlet Speedster, whose identity is still unknown-_ " Oliver raises his eyebrows in interest of the story.

 Of course, being the Green Arrow Oliver has heard of the Streak, or the Flash, or whatever crazy nickname the citizens of Central City wanted to give their savior.

  
 " _-and now to Carmen with the weather..._ " Oliver reaches over, grabbing the remote to change the channel " _-hold on, I just got word that the Flash has been spotted running through the streets towards an apparent bank robbery. Our news team is on site as the police square off, the perps apparently being metas._ " Oliver turns up the volume as the picture changes from a pretty redheaded girl to a live helicopter view of a red and gold blur zooming through the streets towards a police blockade. The camera zooms in once the blur stops on the steps of the bank, instead replaced by the lanky figure of a man dressed in red leather, head to toe.

 Policemen and women rush around the scene, pushing back spectators and other civilians.

 " _Okay, it looks like we'll be shifting to a reporter on scene. Jared, take it from here._ " Oliver bites his lip out of habit, scooting forewords on the bed so that he's sitting on the very edge, feet on the floor, brows creased, completely focused on the television in front of him.

 " _Whoever you are, you need to let out the hostages and surrender. I'll give you one chance._ " A voice that presumably belongs to The Flash comes through the speaker faintly in the background of the reporter talking about the crime. Apparently there are several hostages, and all of the robbers are confirmed to be meta-humans.

 Oliver's fists are clenched and his toes are tapping the floor, his body filled with energy and a need to help those people in danger. But no. The Flash can handle it. If the Arrow were to be seen in Central City, it could cause an uproar, not to mention be a clue to his true identity.

 The Arrow shows up in Central City the _EXACT_ day that Mayor Oliver Queen goes there on business. Coincidence? I think not.

 Oliver knows that people aren't stupid. They may be macabre, naive, and overly confident, but they aren't stupid.

 Especially not the enemies he's faced.

 No, it would be safer just to let the speedster do his job.

" _-And it looks as though The Flash has disappeared into the building-_ " Oliver's attention returns to the tv at the words, and is stunned when a loud boom comes from the speakers, and bright lights are emitted from the doors and windows of the bank on screen. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, there's a person standing out on the front steps, hair blowing from a breeze, looking shaken and confused.

 Then comes another.

 And another.

 More and more people are set on the front steps and greeted by police and family, guided out by a split second view of the man in red.

 After a few seconds of no new hostages being saved, the air is filled with silence, both from the people, and from the bank itself. Then, that silence is ripped apart by an earth shattering scream.

 Someone is thrown out the door onto the steps. Someone decked in red, face to foot. Someone with a gash running diagonally across his chest, and scratches on the visible parts of his face. Oliver's heart seems to stop for a split second, before he stands up and gets closer to the screen, silently begging the injured hero to stand and fight.

 After a few more seconds, that wish is fulfilled. The Flash staggers to a stand as three other people walk out of the building. The camera Oliver sees this footage on is shaky, and the reporter's panickedly shouting into the microphone, but he can make out almost perfectly how the three villains look.

 The one on the right's an African American girl, shorter and heavier set, with long cornrows. It's hard to make out from the distance the video is being shot from, but it seems like there's lightning crackling from her fingers. She's wearing all black, save for a chunky gold necklace.

 In the middle is a tall, skinny white guy with a receding hairline of thin red hair, and a ridiculous shit-eating grin. On each of his fingers there's a silver bladed knife, and with every step he takes, the concrete around him cracks.

 The final person's a small Asian man, long black bangs obscuring his eyes. Strapped to his back is a sword sheath, and in his hands is a shoto blade, glinting in the street lights. This is not a normal bank robbery.

 In a flash, Oliver's pulling out his ' **Superhero Suitcase** ' as Felicity's dubbed it, and quickly putting on his suit, taking quick glances at the tv screen every few seconds to watch the fight.

 He has to help, there's no other choice. There's no way The Flash can take all three at once, even with his super speed. Oliver'll just have to get Roy to make an appearance in his spare Arrow suit in Starling the next night to ease suspicion.

 "God, this is such a bad idea." He grumbles to himself.

 Once dressed and armed to the teeth with knives and spare arrows, Oliver dons his mask and becomes Green Arrow, grabbing his bow, throwing open the window, and jumping out into the night.

* * *

 

 When he arrives at the scene, an arrow knocked and bowstring drawn tight, he keeps as far into the shadows as he can get.

 "Come on, Red. Give us a challenge." The girl cackles, aiming a bolt of white lightning at the red clothed vigilante, which he seems to dodge pretty easily. Oliver can see the problem here.

 Speed is a defensive power. Sure, you have more power when you're fast running into someone, or can cause more damage with a faster punch, but running at its most primitive is a way of escape, a way to evade.

 The man with the knives on his fingers jumps forewords and the Speedster dodges, aiming a punch at his chest. Behind the fight though, the Asian man quietly tries to sneak up behind the hero with his sword...

that's when Oliver lets his arrow fly.

 It hits the man square in the shoulder; nothing deadly, but enough to hurt him so that he can't use his sword. The crowd quiets, and even the female meta stops trying to fight the masked man as Oliver steps out of the shadows, another arrow already drawn.

 For a moment, Oliver allows himself a glance at The Flash, who refuses to meet his eyes. But Oliver can sense something about him. Something about his body language feels so familiar, yet the Arrow can't quite put his finger on where from.

 "Stand down." Oliver says in his edited voice, the deep sound rumbling out of the modulator.

 "Please. You think an asshole in a green hood can stop us?" The lady says, her voice filled with confidence and twisted joy. As she speaks, her eyes meet his, and a little yellow _6_ floats above her head. Oliver smirks. Even with lightning powers this girl shouldn't be too bad. "Well newsflash, archery boy. It'll take more than an arrow in the shoulder to shut us down." Oliver shrugs, not lowering his bow.

 "Suit yourself." And he lets another arrow fly, this one directed at the red haired man, who was currently trying to stab the Flash, who was trying his best, but his wounds were obviously getting in the way. It hits him in the arm, another one following suit, pinning him to the wall behind him. The Flash looks around, confused, before finally catching sight of the other masked vigilante.

 Oliver's muscles tense as he draws back another arrow, though this time being unable to let it fly due to a lightning strike in the chest. The electricity courses through him, causing him to writhe in pain for a few seconds and drop his bow.

 The Flash runs over and punches the woman in the face, surprising her enough to let her guard down. He zooms around, attempting to cuff her, but she keeps sending out blasts of lightning, stopping him from getting too close. Oliver knows that sooner or later, he'll end up getting hit, so the green clad hero climbs to his feet, still shaky after the lightning to help the Scarlet Speedster.

 As he's about to try shooting at the woman, he senses something behind him and turns, barely missing a hand of knives in the back from the red-haired man. Oliver tried to take a punch, but the man dodges.

 "The Green Arrow, huh?" Oliver grunts as he lands a punch in the man's stomach, which only causes him to flinch slightly. "Oh, I've heard all about you." Oliver aims a kick at the man's head, which is easily dodged and is instead himself kicked in the stomach losing his breath for a moment before regaining his composure. "The Emerald Archer of Starling City. How's the Count doing? We go way back." The man grins and Oliver roars, hitting him with his bow, kicking him back, and aiming a punch at his temple. If it affects the villain, he sure doesn't show it.

 In the back of his mind, he can hear the police sirens, the peoples' screams, and see the _6_ above this man's head, but he doesn't focus on that. All he can see is red.

 The man laughs as Oliver draws another arrow and shoots it into a non-lethal part of his chest, exiting through his back. "Not so easy to fight someone who can't feel pain, now is it?"

 "Not so easy to fight when your hands are cuffed behind your back, either." Another voice says, an the smile drops from the man's face. The man in red steps out from behind the meta, gash on his chest bleeding, smile on his face. "Yeah, one of the perks of superspeed is being able to sneak up on distracted people. Your other friends are already in the police van. That kid really knows how to handle his sword, I'm impressed." The Flash laughs as if he didn't just capture three master criminals with superpowers while severely injured. "Now let's get you out of here." Oliver watches as The Flash walks the man struggling against him to the police, and back to him at normal speed.

 While the speedster is gone, Oliver takes a moment to count his injuries. He shouldn't have any visible marks tomorrow, save for maybe some burns that he'll be able to blame on boiling water. Oliver looks at his hands, calloused from years of using a bow, and clenches his fists. He can't even escapee God damn Count Vertigo in the city. Of course not.

 "Hey." Oliver looks up, startled from his thoughts. The speedster stand in front of him, eyes downcast, chest bleeding, and visible parts of his face cut and bruised. "Thanks for helping out." He brings his eyes up to meet Oliver's, and the Green Arrow immediately sets his sights on the number hovering above the hero's head. A _9_.

 "No problem." Oliver replied, his modulator deepening his voice. "I was just in the neighborhood." He says with a smirk, before turning around and shooting an arrow into a building, and retracting the line, pulling him away from the confused hero to make his escape from questioning. He looks back for a moment once he reaches the rooftop, watching the hero as he turns and disappears from the scene in a block of an eye. Oliver half-smiles to himself. "Cool." He mutters, unaware that the Speedster said the exact same thing as he climbed up the building with his bow.

 What Oliver didn't see, however, was the number above the Scarlet Speedster's head change from a _9_ to an _8_ as he collapsed to the ground back at S.T.A.R labs, Caitlin and Cisco pulling him onto a cot as Harry, Iris, Detective West, and Wally watched.

 As Oliver makes his way back to his hotel, all he can think about is how even The Flash wasn't a _10._

 But Barry Allen is.

* * *

 

 The next day, Oliver goes into the police department, briefcase in hand, and bandages covering his arms under his suit. The burns are the worst on his arms, but it's really nothing new to him. Pain is something he's learned to control after years of torture and agony.

 Oliver sits at his desk an sighs, taking in the fact that Barry is, once again, late for work. After about another half hour or so, Oliver hears the voice of Detective Singh once again reprimanding the young CSI.

 " _Why didn't you show up at the crime scene last night? I called you ten times, and I know for a fact that Joe did as well_." Singh's voice is so loud Oliver can hear very clearly every word leaving his mouth.

 " _I was busy-_ "

 " _Doing what? Please, enlighten me with what task you were doing that was so important that you had to not come to a crime scene and do your job._ "

 " _I was-_ "

 " _That's what I thought. Just-"_ Oliver can almost hear the captain rubbing his temples. Oliver chuckles as he continues to write out a report for city hall. _"Just please go process the evidence our other CSI collected?_ "

 " _Yes sir._ " And then the door opens, revealing a much more tired, much more messy Barry Allen than Oliver'd seen the day before. The Queen can almost see his eye bags from where he's sitting... well, now standing and walking over to the tired younger man.

 "Barry, what's up?" Oliver tries to stay nonchalant while checking over the man- NOT checking him out. Totally not, never. Even if he's really quite handsome, if you're into the shy, geeky, lanky type. And wild brown hair. And bright green eyes that rival his other nickname- the Emerald Archer- with their vividness...

 "Hm? Oh, nothing. Just getting yelled at by our glorious captain, Mr. Queen. Well, I guess he's not your captain, but-" Barry starts to ramble, but Oliver cuts him of with a snort of a laugh.

 "Yeah, I get it." Oliver smiles, but that smile melts off of his face once noticing something on Barry's.

 Oliver reaches out to touch the CSI's cheek before hesitating, and running it through his own hair. Why does he think to touch the other man's face, even if it is injured?

 "What happened to your cheek?" Barry's eyes widen and he brings his hand quickly over a large purple bruise.

 "I-I uhh.. I ran into a doorknob." Barry stutters, hand firmly planted over the mark. Oliver raises an eyebrow, and crosses his arms over his chest.

 "Really." Barry looks away, twiddling his thumbs and shaking out his hair.

 "Uh.. yes."

 "Must've been a pretty tall door then." Oliver smirks, turning around to take a seat at his desk.

 "Oh, yeah... no, I mean it was a cabinet handle." The brunette mimes opening a cabinet door, lips pursed. "Like that. And then I uh, yeah. Ran... I ran into it." He says, before turning around awkwardly, gesturing to his seat, and walking over to it, sitting down quickly. "Right. Well... I should probably, uh. Work. Now." Barry scratches the back of his neck, and Oliver smiles softly at the pink blush adorning the other man's cheeks, before looking back down at his computer, mind racing.

 How could he be this into someone after barely knowing him a day? That's just not possible. And he really isn't the type of person Oliver's ever been attracted to before, but there's just something about that cute ramble and those green eyes that draws the archer in.

 Or maybe it's just that damn _10_ floating ominously above his head, maybe even the purple bruise on his cheek, which as Oliver catches another glimpse of it now, can swear it was much darker a minute ago.

 But you know what?

 Oliver is here to focus on work. Not Arrow work, mayor work. And it should really stay that way.

 Oliver sighs and rests his cheek on his fist. Hopefully today will be less eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!!! Please review and such, it'll make me smile :) I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Xxx


	3. Chapter 3

  
 The next few days pass slowly, as Oliver tries to figure out the mystery that is Barry Allen.

 Oliver can see that he's kind when he brings the vigilante a coffee every morning " _just because_ " with a dashing smile.

 He can see that the green eyed man is smart as he bites his lower lip in thought while he pours over equations and case studies, mind moving a million miles an hour.

 Oliver can see that he's caring when he comes in the morning after another meta attack, bags under his eyes and hair messed up in the sexiest way.

 Wait.

 ' _Oh, nononono, not this again._ ' Oliver chastises himself for thinking about the CSI that way, again, for maybe the millionth time since the two had met three weeks ago. And what a wild three weeks they'd been.

* * *

 

 News that the Green Arrow had been sighted in Central City traveled in a flash, and no one at the precinct could seem to shut up about it. They theorized on who it could be, what they were doing in central, and, most popularly, what his relationship was with the Scarlet Speedster.

 His vigilante name was in magazines, on tv, God, even Jitters made a drink called " _Green_ _Arrow_ " and you would get a discount if you bought a " _Flash_ " with it. But that's exactly what Oliver didn't- and still doesn't- want. He called Roy the second he got back to his hotel after the first attack, throwing off his gear and yelling into the phone. Roy, as usual, didn't disappoint, and went out in Oliver's spare costume, dispelling any rumor that he was still in Central.

 Barry, however... Oliver had no idea what was going on with him. Whenever someone would bring Oliver's alter-ego up, he would visibly tense and quiet. The untrained eye wouldn't be able to capture it, but the Arrow's could.

 And then one day, about a week and a half ago, Oliver confronted him about it.

 "Hey Barry-" he'd said as causally as he could, forcing himself not to look at the little ' _10_ ' above the brunette's head. The other man looked up, surprised.

 "Yeah?" Oliver scratched the back of his neck nervously. How could it be that someone this non-threatening could fry the Arrow's nerves with just a single look?

 "Are you busy after your shift?" Barry pressed his lips together in a smile and shook his head no. Oliver let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, uh... I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee?" Barry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He stuttered for a moment before replying, playing with his fingers nervously, looking over his shoulder.

 "Y-you mean with me?" Oliver laughed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes trained almost shyly on the ground.

 "Yes, I mean with you." He cleared his throat to regain some composure. "I just thought, you know, we're going to be sharing the office for a while, why not, well, get to be better friends?" Barry stared at the blonde for a moment before answering with a blinding smile.

 "Um... sure! Yea uh, sounds... sounds great!" Barry said with a nervous excitement, earning a grin from the blue eyed man, and the rest is history.

* * *

 

 Oliver smiles as he recalls how every new minute he spent with the green eyed CSI made him more and more intrigued. The way he loosened up as time went on, and only a few days later the two of them could talk like they've known each other for years. Today is no exception as the CSI stumbles into the crime lab, today only ten minutes late.

 "Ten minutes, I'd say that's a new record." Oliver smiles when Barry laughs, his heart warming at the sound.

 "Yeah, I do try, I swear." The CSI insists, dumping his leather messenger bag on his pristine desk.

 "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you-" Barry turns around and leans his back on his desk, eyebrows raised and hands gripping the table edges, the morning sun resting gently on the side of his face, brightening his eyes. "How do you keep your desk so clean?"

 "Ahh, that, I cannot say." Barry laughs evilly, turning back to and opening his bag, pulling out a stack of papers. He thumbs through them quickly, scanning the endless pages of evidence and formulas; Oliver can almost see his brain working at lightning speed.

 The two settle into their usual routine, a comfortable silence settling between them as they work, the rustle of paper the only thing interrupting the relative silence of the room and the white noise of the station downstairs. Every few minutes, Oliver swears he can feel Barry's eyes on him, but every time he looks at the brunette, the other man's eyes are trained on a paper or his computer screen, with the tiniest tinge of pink decorating his ears. His little ' _10_ ' hovers peacefully above chestnut layered hair, floating a little higher every time a pale hand pushes its' way through the locks in concentration.

 All too soon though, their peace is shattered by the door slamming open and heavy footsteps making their way into the lab.

 "Allen. We need you for backup, right now. There's an attack downtown." Barry stares at the newly arrived Captain, who is huffing his breath and whose eyes are filled with badly masked fear. The CSI looks down at his hands nervously for a moment before replying to the frantic man.

 "I-I've never been backup, sir. I wouldn't know what to do." He looks the Captain in the face, worry showing through his bright eyes.

 "They taught you how to shoot a gun for a reason-"

 "Yeah-" Barry interrupts, "-but I didn't think I'd ever actually need to-" Captain Singh holds a hand up to stop the rambling CSI.

 "Look, don't question it. We need you." Barry sits frozen in his seat. "Now." The captain turns to exit, giving Oliver a polite nod on his way out, Barry rising slowly to follow. Oliver's eyes follow him nervously as he opens his bottom drawer and pulls out a pistol that looks like it has never been used. Barry stares at the weapon, his hands shaking. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed, before setting his shoulders back and sliding the gun into his holster.

 "Barry-" Oliver says after a moment of watching Barry fiddle with the gun, brows furrowed in anxiety whilst putting his bag together.

 "Yeah?" Barry looks at Oliver wide eyed, but steady.

 Oliver opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind before the words come out. "Please, be careful..." A pause "I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt." The arrow gives a soft smile before returning his eyes to his laptop; a precaution to make sure that he doesn't start begging the brunette to not go; to not risk getting hurt.

 "I'll try, Ollie." Oliver's heart stops at the nickname while Barry leaves the room, the space becoming unusually quiet without the boisterous younger man.

 Oliver, try as he may over the next half hour, cannot refocus on his work. There's too much noise in his brain, and his heart is beating too fast. The man stands and stretches, sits down again, and starts tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. The station downstairs is almost silent with all of the officers deployed to handle the attack.

 ' _Taptaptaptap_ -' his foot is in overdrive.

 "Godammit, Barry." Oliver sighs, giving up on trying to work. He puts his forehead in his hands for a moment, resting his eyes, before sitting back up, opening a new tab on his computer and bringing up the live newsfeed of the fight.

 On the screen, the sun is bright and high in the sky, reflecting off of the thousands of delicate windows covering the walls of the office building. Downtown. The business district, filled to the brim with rich business men and women, as well as foreign dignitaries, and money. Lots of money.

 Blue eyes scan the scene rather selfishly for just a glimpse of the CSI- just something so that the Arrow knows that the younger man is unharmed. The police form a wall around someone- or something- blocking the camera's view of whatever the perp is.

 But there were still sounds.

 Oliver can hear the crack of gunfire, the ' _ping_ ' of bullets against metal, and the deep laughter of someone who should definitely not have the power that he does.

 " _-and it looks like the Flash is nowhere to be seen as the police square off-_ " The reporter- Linda- says. Oliver furrows his brows in confusion. The Flash may be late sometimes, but never late enough to put anyone in real danger.

 Just as Oliver is thinking over how he can best sneak out of the building to help the fight, he catches a glimpse of a tall, brown haired figure in the background having what looks like an argument of some sort with a slightly shorter man- one that Oliver has come to know in the past few weeks- Joe West. In the next moment, Barry takes a step back from Joe, nods, and starts running out of the scene. Hell, Oliver almost missed him.

Almost.

 Despite his better judgement, Oliver sighs in relief.

 ' _At least he's out of there... hopefully Joe didn't just send him to play Shaggy..._ ' Oliver thinks, watching the tiny pixelated form of Joe West turn back to the scene and resume pointing his gun at the unseen threat.

 Oliver stands then, taking off his jacket, and grabbing his duffle bag from under the desk. He looks around for any security cameras, and when he finds none in the room, changes quickly into the Arrow uniform and throws on his quiver, picking up his bow.

 One thing about the Arrow is that he is most definitely a night hunter. He has so much more cover at night, and most importantly, the element of surprise.

 Options race through the blonde's head as he runs across the floor on light feet and locks the door to the lab so that no one will come in wondering where he is. He then takes a deep breath to calm himself, grabs a smaller bag with some civilian clothes in it, and jumps out the window to scale the wall of the police department as quickly as possible. From there, he starts his journey downtown, stopping at a building near the scene to deposit his extra bag in a utility closet.

 In the fifteen minutes it's taken him to reach the scene, all hell has already broken loose.

 Oliver's eyes rake the ground below him, watching from his perch atop an adjacent building. The sun heats the leather of his uniform, causing sweat to drip down the side of his face. The arrow silently thanks god that he didn't have time to apply his grease paint.

 In the time it had taken him to arrive, the Flash had already done so. Currently, he's speeding around on the ground, taking hits for officers whose guns are just not good enough to combat the tall man with a sick smile.

 The villain has blonde hair from what Oliver can see, and is sporting a very large gun. Every blast gets closer and closer to hitting the blur, but it looks like the projectiles are just normal bullets. But that couldn't be...

 Oliver shakes the questions from his thoughts and descends from the building, shooting an arrow toward the villain, grabbing his- and everyone else's- attention.

 "Hey!" Oliver yells in his modulated voice, trying not to let the realization that his arrow didn't even pierce the guy's skin alter his ever present confidence.

 The crowd quiets- even the cops stop shooting in surprise of seeing the arrow in central for the second time in a month.

 "I don't have time for you Green Bean." The man says nonchalantly. Damn, all these villains are getting cocky. "I'm here for a much bigger prize." His twisted smile reaches black eyes, bleached eyebrows furrowing.

 In his peripheral, Oliver can see the man in red quietly trying to sneak up on the guy while he's distracted by the Arrow.

 "And what is that prize exactly?" Oliver asks through gritted teeth, bowstring drawn tight and shoulders tensed. The man throws his head back in a laugh. The Flash is almost to him, reaching an arm out.

 "Isn't it obvious?" He asks through a snort, gesturing around to the people surrounding the two, even the police cowering before the firearm in his hand. He then looks at Oliver straight on again with a sharp grin. "Speed." A pause "and it seems that you're standing in the way of that." The words leave his mouth, and in the millisecond the gun goes off, Oliver knows exactly what the plan was in the first place.

 For one of the only times in his life, Oliver is frozen. He closes his eyes, expectant of the bullet, but it doesn't come. All that does is a gust of wind.

 Oliver opens his eyes and look to his left, seeing the Flash hunched over with a hand on his stomach, face contorted. He turns to look at the gun man, who looks honestly surprised at the turn of events.

 Oliver takes advantage of the delay, and fires his already drawn arrow at him. It just bounces off of what Oliver now sees must be some high tech body armor. So that's why the police couldn't handle him.

 Oliver turns his attention for just a moment back to the Flash, who is once again standing back up, the number floating above his head distorted so Oliver can't tell exactly what number it is, before speeding to the Arrow's side, and whispering unaltered words that Oliver barely catches before the red blue and gust of wind have vanished.

 " _You can handle it_." Oliver doesn't have time to think on the familiarity of the voice, or the feeling of warm breath against his face, because the man with the gun is right back to battle.

 Oliver draws another arrow, knocking it to the string in one fluid motion, searching for any chinks in the armor. He jumps out of the way of an oncoming bullet, and sees a light blue glowing sheen around the man's body.

 If there's armor, there's got to be a chink.

 Oliver turns to the police behind him, always moving and checking over his shoulder to avoid attacks from the villain.

 "Look for a chink in his armor." The Arrow's voice rumbles out of the modulator, and several of the cops- including Joe- nod.

 Oliver springs back into action, shooting arrows into wherever he thinks could be a chink.

Forehead: no

Armpit: no

Dick: no _(Oliver almost got himself shot while he was trying to aim there_ )

 Nothing's working, and Oliver is starting to run out of ideas as well as arrows.

 His arms are tiring and his sides are bruising from diving down onto the pavement to avoid the man's never ending slew of bullets. Then, as Oliver is drawing his last arrow, a familiar voice reaches his ear.

 "Arrow! His heel! Aim for his heel!" The voice of Cisco Ramon is what alerts Oliver to what will defeat this enemy, and to something to call him. Achilles.

 Oliver changes his aim to his enemy's foot, and waits for him to turn around. Achilles is firing off into the squadrons of Police officers, his back to the Arrow, thinking himself invincible. He laughs in cruel joy as he strikes down officer after officer with his strange looking bullets, until Oliver hits him in the heel with his final arrow.

 Achilles howls with pain, the shot completely destroying his armor and impaling his heel. The officers around the man quickly take notice and start shooting at him, bringing the cocky man down to the ground, blood spilling and staining the asphalt around him.

 Oliver walks up to Achilles, not even caring that he's dead. Oliver's killed worse; he's done and seen worse.

 The green-clad archer reaches tentatively for the gun laying on the ground, picking it up carefully as the officers bustle around him. He takes out the bullet cartridge and pours the bullets into his gloved hand, inspecting them.

 After only a moment, Oliver knows what's on the bullet.

 " _Kurari_." He says to himself, before standing up and commanding the officers attention.

 "If anyone has been shot, admit them to the hospital immediately, and contact Starling for the Kurari antidote. It's the only thing that can save them now." Oliver hands the gun to an awaiting CSI... who is definitely not Barry. It's an older man with a large forehead and small glasses. The tag on the man's jacket reads ' _Julian Albert, CSI_.' Oliver wonders where the younger CSI got off to earlier as Julian closes the bag and gives the Arrow a suspicious look. But then his thoughts wander to someone else. To someone else. Someone who most definitely got shot.

 Oliver turns, looking around for any sign of the speedster who'd disappeared right after he showed up. The vigilante can still feel the ghost of the words " _you can handle it_ " that were whispered in his ear by the red and gold blur. He can't forget how when the Flash's voice is unedited, it sounds so familiar...

 "We have an officer down!" Oliver hears the words and turns around, knocked out of his thoughts. He runs to the building next door and scales it quickly, getting out of the way of the rushing officers and trying to get a vantage point and better view of the scene. He jumps to the roof of the next building over, looking down as the police officers congregate over an unknown figure. Throughout the chaos, he sees the outline of one person pushing his way through the crowd with obvious urgency- Joe West. And that could mean only one thing.

 "Barry." Oliver whispers, heart thumping at lightning speed. The vigilante jumps to the building where he left his bag, fast as his legs will carry him. Quick as he can, he changes out of his uniform, hiding it in a closet before he locks the door from the inside; he can just kick it open later to get his things.

 Right now what's most important is that Barry Allen could be hurt.

 Oliver sprints down the stairs, resisting the urge to just jump down the middle of the stairwell as to not raise suspicion if he's seen. Once outside he books it for the throng of officers, pushing his way through the crowd.

 "Mayor Queen, what are you doing here?" An officer asks, but he just pushes past her, his only goal is getting to Barry's side, and he almost succeeds until two pairs of hands hold him back.

 "Mayor Queen, please, you can't be here." He slows his struggling when he recognizes the voice.

 "Cisco, I know that's Barry in there." After getting to know Barry, Oliver also got to know some of his friends, and Cisco Ramon, CCPD's resident tech junkie, is definitely one of them. The shorter man shakes his head, long black hair swaying with the movements.

 "You can't see him." He says softly, hands still on the frustrated vigilante's arm.

 "Cisco's right. He's been shot, Mr. Queen." Oliver's breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he stops moving, thinking his way out of the arms he's trapped in.

 "Joe, how many times have I asked you to just call me Oliver? I've been friends with your son for a few weeks now." Oliver says softly, surprising Joe.

 "I-I-"

 "Yeah." Oliver says, pushing past the two men to see Barry sitting up against the wall, head back, eyes closed, arms gripping his stomach.

 " _Shit_ \- Barr." Oliver jogs to the other man's side, despite the protests of the officers.

 "Oliver?" Barry cracks open his eyes.

 "Yeah, it's me." Oliver smiles before Barry coughs, then flinches because of the pressure on his wound. "Hey, I don't know how you're still _conscious_ right now-" Oliver lets out a breathy laugh, and reaches out to lightly push Barry's sweat soaked bangs out of his eyes. "And I don't know how you aren't even crying-" Oliver says even softer, more serious. Barry just looks at him, green irises still bright but noticeably dimmer.

 "That's a good question-" Barry winces again before continuing. "how about I answer it over coffee tomorrow?" he jokes softly, shifting slightly against the hard brick wall.

 The noise of the people surrounding them fades out until it's like the world is nothing but the two of them- only in this world, Oliver is just Oliver, not a vigilante, not a killer.

 "I don't think you'll be going anywhere tomorrow Barr." Oliver smiles softly, pressing his forehead to Barry's affectionately. "Barry Allen-" a beat. "You're so fucking strong."

 "Am I now?" Oliver pulls his head back when the sound of ambulance sirens fills his ears. He looks to the CSI's face, not contorted in pain, not tear streaked, but genuinely happy. "That's news to me."

 In that moment, Oliver is pried away from Barry's prone body, medics immediately lifting him onto a stretcher.

 As Oliver fights to see Barry one more time before he's gone to the hospital, he sees something that changes everything he thought he knew about Barry Allen, clumsy, funny, beautiful CSI.

 Oliver sees the ' _10_ ' above his head go down to a ' _9_ '.

 In that moment, everything clicks.

Barry's latefulness and dumb excuses.

The bruises and cuts that seem to heal in an instant.

The ' _10_ ' which apparently can lower depending on how hurt he is.

That can only mean one thing.

 Barry Allen is the Flash.

 And Oliver is even more confused than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! Leave a review of you did, love ya, and sorry for the wait xxx


	4. Update???

Just a little notice that I WILL BE FINISHING THIS STORY, DO NOT WORRY!!!!!!

 Over the past few months I’ve been distracted by school, but I promise you that I have the chapter half written. So, just like last time, I’ll be giving you a sneak peak of the story as an apology <3

* * *

 

"Why? Why do-" Barry launches into a coughing fit, small drops of blood coming out. "why do you want to save me?" Oliver hesitates. Should he tell Barry that he knows his identity? Oliver thinks for a moment, before replying.

 

"Because you're this city's hero." Oliver can hear the sounds of the building collapsing, the groans of steel that can't take the weight anymore. Barry lets out a small laugh.

 

"Who are you kidding? This city-" The Speedster spasms, and his number drops two places to a seven. Oliver's beginning to panic. "This city needs you more than it needs me, Arrow." A smile fights its way to rest crookedly on that blood covered face, a face Oliver knows has to come into work tomorrow making excuses about why he was late to captain Singh, or why he has bruises and healing cuts that weren't there before all over his face and body to Oliver.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this story catches some people's attention, as when I saw the prompt it immediately caught my attention. (Writing-prompt-s on tumblr and Instagram) please leave reviews, they make the whole writing process a little bit more enjoyable. Lots of love, and consider this a Christmas present to all my Olivarry fans!!


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